Rainstorm
by Saf Dawnheart
Summary: So how was it that he was lying here, dead, in front of her? One moment he was alive and well, sharing tongues with her in the apprentices' den, and the next here he was. — White/Shrew.


**_Disclaimer_** – If I owned Warriors, Squirrelflight would be Squirreltail, Spiderleg would be Spiderfur, and Hawkfrost wouldn't be evil.

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She sat close to his body, letting the rain pounding against the monster-churned soil wash over her white fur. A rumble of thunder sounded overhead, adding to her ever-growing melancholy mood.

How could this have happened?

Beside her Thornclaw gave her ear a quick lick in futile reassurance; she turned her head away, sending him a silent message that said loud and clear she didn't want him right now. The golden brown warrior sighed softly and moved a little ways away from his apprentice's body.

She stared down at her dead friend's dark brown pelt, matted now with rain, mud and blood. She remembered how he had always loved to keep it so clean, even when he was in the nursery with Spiderpaw and Ferncloud, and suddenly realized she loathed it. She wanted nothing more than to throw back her head and yowl her fury and grief to the heavens and curse StarClan for killing him, but aside from being forbidden to speak she knew it would be pathetic. Leafpaw had also told her that StarClan was as powerless to stop the Twolegs as the cats themselves were.

So how was it that he was lying here, dead, in front of her? One moment he was alive and well, sharing tongues with her in the apprentices' den, and the next here he was.

He had been so helpful in those first days when her parents, Cloudtail and Brightheart, had gone missing. She had been so distraught, and not knowing what had happened to them was killing her. It had been him, along with his brother Spiderpaw, that had comforted her. She let herself be carried back to her memories with him and shivered in a way that was more than the heavy rivulet of water that had dripped onto her back from the waving branches above. When Squirrelpaw and Brambleclaw had brought back her parents her friend's eyes had glowed brighter than the sun ever could.

"Isn't it great, Whitepaw?" he had said, turning his glimmering amber pools on her.

Whitepaw let herself return to the present slowly, like a fish sinking into deep water, and looked down at his body again; a sigh nearly escaped her when the next reminiscence's sorrow stabbed her so sharply she thought one of the branches lashing about above her must have hit her in the chest.

It had been this very morning – Firestar had gone out on patrol with Ashfur, Squirrelpaw, and Brambleclaw. Whitepaw had watched them go, wishing she could come along and distract herself by the chatter of Squirrelpaw; anything to escape the general dismalness of Sunningrocks. Even Sunningrocks itself had grown more depressing, ThunderClan's pride that they had managed to keep it even after all these moons faded to only a sliver.

She had felt a light touch on her shoulder and turned to see him. "Hi," he mewed cheerfully.

"Hey," she replied, a soft sigh embedded in her voice. Normally she wouldn't be sounding so low – sharply contrasting her usually-cheerful, optimistic personality – but lately, even after Cloudtail, Brightheart and Leafpaw had been rescued from the Twolegs, she had been withdrawing more and more often into herself.

It must have showed, because he narrowed his golden eyes. "You okay?"

"I'm fine," she meowed, a little too defensively. When he looked at her in an annoyed way, she sighed. "Look, I'm sorry. Want to go hunting?"

"No thanks, I told Thornclaw I'd go with him today." The young apprentice looked up at the gradually darkening sky, his dark brown pelt rippling with the movement. "That is, try to find whatever's left," he added grimly.

Whitepaw found herself staring at him for a moment before shaking herself. It had only been a few moons ago – not too long after Brambleclaw and Squirrelpaw had left on the journey to the sun-drown-place – that she had realized she had fallen for him, but she did her best not to let it show. In fact, sometimes the concept disgusted her a little when she saw two cats of the opposite sex sharing tongues or padding off to hunt together. But then she would spot him, look into his shining amber eyes, and feel like she could trust him with her life.

"Whitepaw?"

She snapped to attention. "Hm?"

"I was just saying it looks like there's a storm coming." He turned with a flick of his tail, then glanced back at her, his strong friendship and something else in his eyes. "Whitepaw?"

Whitepaw could hear her heartbeat roaring in her ears and pounding so hard against her ribcage that she thought it would break open. "Yes?"

He opened his mouth to reply, but at that moment Thornclaw appeared over the top of the slope. "Hey!" he called to his apprentice, bounding down to where he and Whitepaw were talking. "Are you coming?"

"Yes, Thornclaw!" the dark brown tom called back with a sigh, and turned back to Whitepaw. "I guess I'll tell you when I get back." And as the two of them departed, Whitepaw felt her feelings for him sharper than ever before.

The rumble of thunder and the lightning that permeated her vision jarred her abruptly back to this nightmare of the present. She looked down at his body again and suppressed another sigh as she thought of her final moments with him. He hadn't told her what he had meant to say, but from the sparkle in his eyes she thought she already knew.

_I love you, Shrewpaw.

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WAAAAAAHH! That sucked to write/type! Poor Shrewpaw… I was so sad when he died. And I always think Whitepaw kinda liked him; I mean, c'mon: they're always together, and she sat vigil with him… (wink wink nudge nudge) Well, I'll just step aside and let you all review!


End file.
